


Teacher, Teacher

by jenni3penny



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:00:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23857978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenni3penny/pseuds/jenni3penny
Summary: Sloane's old commanding officer becomes a point of discussion during a temporary lockdown.
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Comments: 17
Kudos: 104





	Teacher, Teacher

They had officially only been in an imposed lockdown for twelve minutes before she let off a sigh so large and loud that he thought maybe the room had shuddered in answer. He didn't give her the satisfaction of his full attention, instead stretching over her office couch as he watched flashing lights flood the parking lot.

"Do you know what I was supposed to do today?"

"You're gonna tell me," he answered calmly and leaned his left palm to the window frame for leverage, tone more pedantic than accusatory. He added a shrug to lighten the weight and make it even more casual, conversational. He didn't want to seem purposely irascible, at least not yet. There was no telling how long they would end up locked alone in her office. He knew her well enough to know that she didn’t like to be locked in anywhere and that it would take less than half an hour for her to start prying ‘feeling’ words out of him…

Nobody was answering their calls, the internal phone system already shut down. She'd used her cell to try and call McGee or Bishop but neither of them had answered. Kasie was locked up tight in her lab with Torres, texting at random intervals. Worry was gnawing at his edges, burring his patience. Barely two minutes after the security team had shut them into her office he'd asked her for her sidearm.

She'd rarely been so sexy as when she had silently shut the safety off and handed him the Sig, sans hesitation.

"The National War College." Her shoulders slacked against her desk chair, fingers lacing together against her stomach as her head banked back. She sighed again, eyes shut as she continued, "Tell me where the War College is, Gibbs?"

"Fort McNair, where the Potomac and the Anacostia meet," he said softly, taking the sight of her in while he could, using her self made distraction to his advantage. "Roosevelt Hall."

Her brow was knit tight even as the rest of her exuded supposed calm, the lines around and above her eyes bunching up. The rest of her body was still and unmoving except for her chest, rising and falling in a rhythmic pattern, forced slow by purposeful patience. He studied her hands, small but comforting across her stomach as she soothed herself by breathing.

"Ooooooh, I _love_ it when you talk Army," she teased quietly, head shaking her hair so that it hung from the chair back, taunting his fingers.

He loved it when she used such a sultry and sensual tone of voice. It _always_ had him wondering what her moan would sound like in his ear.

Gibbs pressed off the window, walking the opposite length of her couch to force himself away from staring at her. "You didn't tell me you were going to McNair."

"I was supposed to sit in on a lecture for a friend of mine. He teaches there."

' _He_ ', she said. _He_ teaches there.

Of course there was a ' _He_ '.

Like he didn't have enough problems today - now he got to imagine her flirting with a teacher, one that was probably military. Likely younger than him, more fit, obviously intelligent… Probably Army too.

He had to get out of her office and away from the subtly endearing scent of her. "I'm going down there."

"You won't get past Lou. He's posted at the hall entrance."

He grunted as he passively studied her shelves, barely taking anything in. " _Lou_?"

He wasn't afraid of squaring off with some of the security staff.

He _did_ question leaving her alone in her office without a weapon, unprotected. Not that she couldn't handle herself… But he was loath to leave her alone. He didn’t necessarily want her running into danger with him, not knowing what was waiting for them.

"Six four and shoulders like a linebacker. He puts Torres to shame." Her chair shifted as she paused and he could hear her stand up behind him. Her heels hit the carpet and he couldn't pin down how close she was without turning to meet her. "Anyhow, he lectures about the theoretical fluidity of personal morality while in an active war zone."

"Ethics aren't fluid," Gibbs argued, finally turning and stopping himself up when he realized how close she had gotten, how concerned her eyes seemed with less distance between them.

"You're mostly right. But morality can be, depending on the situation," she answered, voice near a whisper. "Ethics and morals are two totally separate things, Gibbs."

"Why… What're you trying to say, Jack?"

" _Nothing_ ," she shook off gently, reaching out to stroke up and down his arm in a way that seemed… intimate. He didn't forget the firearm in his hand, though, the reminder of an unknown and possibly dangerous outside variable. "Nothing. You're anxious and I'm trapped. I'm just trying to avoid the inevitable dual panic attack we're both headed for, Champ."

"Who is _he_?" The question had been meant to tease and distract her but his voice had been more gruff than he’d intended and it came out sounding like an accusation. One he had to tailor once he saw the ticked rise of one eyebrow as she studied his face. "The teacher."

Her lashes seemed longer than usual as she shook off the question, looking almost bemused. "My former CO."

She had never mentioned her previous commanding officer before. Her team, her Wingos, sure. Other battalions, other units, yeah. But her direct senior? Not once had he ever heard her reference him. He had to wonder if that had been intentional.

"Soldier turned teacher seems your type,” he commented, doing his utmost to keep his voice level, no inflection or innuendo that she could pick apart in that nimble brain of hers. He had already given her plenty of fodder, she didn’t need to hear the exact echoed depth of his jealousy.

"You spend a lot of time trying to figure out my type, Gibbs?" she taunted, smirking to herself as she shrugged. "Soldier turned teacher, huh? Like you?"

"M'not a teacher."

"Gimme a break." Her eyeroll seemed to be a happy companion to the way she shoved against his arm and he wanted every day to be a day wherein she teased at him so playfully, so smoothly. She _was_ smooth sometimes (when she wasn’t being self conscious), satin and soft and ten steps ahead of him. He liked that. "Every day is a lesson to those three. Speaking of..."

She let the words trail off as she turned back toward her desk, both hands pressing her lower back as she stretched. He let his glance dip lower, following her movements with interest as she dropped her hands to grab up her cell, half leaned over the desk. She kept it set flat as she swiped a couple things away. He took the chance to enjoy the view while she read her texts.

"Kasie says Jimmy video-chatted her and he's fine at the moment. Dr Mallard isn't in today and Leon told us to sit tight."

Gibbs stepped closer at the mention of the director, jaw up. "He say what's going on?"

"It literally just says ' _You two sit your collective asses still. That's an order_ '."

"It does _not_ ," he scoffed.

Jack turned the screen toward him unnecessarily with a laugh, the text message just a blur to him. "He has quite the way with words, our Director."

He frowned as he consciously stopped trying to focus on the words in front of him. He didn't need the proof and the words were swimming a little too much anyhow, the text tiny. "Bet _he_ knows your CO."

"He has met him, yes. Are you jealous, Gibbs?"

He lifted a shoulder in answer, shrugged it once while he watched the smile unfurl over her lips, all of her looking flushed with a pleasure he hadn't been sure he could provide her. There it was, though. Bright and evident, right in front of him.

"Which one are you jealous of, really?" Her question was quieter and he blinked at how soft she had gone. "The one I _might_ be sleeping with? That what this is about?"

He rolled his eyes at her, blatantly and purposely turning away, looking toward her office door. He stared into the center of it like he could will it open by way of fierce intimidation. He shook his head slightly, feeling her sigh more than really hearing it as she turned and sat back carefully along the front edge of her desk.

She lifted her phone in his peripheral, giving into his non-response regarding the subject matter. "Tim or Ellie?"

"Try Tim first. She should be with him," he responded, watching her find McGee’s number and call. He held her eyes with his own while they waited out the ringing, a flinch darkening her eyes as voicemail kicked in once again and she hung up. Gibbs swallowed hard, dragging his glance back toward the door and re-adjusting his grip on the Sig. "I don't like them not being accessible."

"That's a rule of yours, isn't it?" The movement of her body was always something he perpetually tracked, barely consciously but continually. When she tossed the phone down and stepped back around the desk he could half read her frustration just in the shift of her hips and the curled fists at her sides. Her shoulders were tighter than they had been earlier. She was prowling, annoyed and tense. _Trapped_ , he told himself. "Always be available?"

"Never be unreachable," he corrected, side-eyeing her steps as she swung her chair around, supposedly casually.

"That _is_ different then... But I may not always be _available_ , Gibbs."

Dead strike, right to the goddamn heart. She knew exactly what she was doing. She had since the very beginning, since the moment she had asked if he’d known where she was supposed to be that afternoon. He had very carefully stalked the entire minefield she’d laid out before him just to get sniped three feet from safety, no warning shot.

Army PsyOps, sexy, calculating… and a more brutal bedside manner than he had even imagined. "I know that."

"Do you?" she asked heavily, sitting into her chair as though she was exhausted. She probably emotionally was - he knew that he wasn't easy. He knew she carried his emotions with her when they were together, piled up on top of her own. "I'm not currently sleeping with my CO."

It wasn't relief that sagged his shoulders but sadness that she'd taken a tone so dejected and final.

"It's not… I missed out on that woman. _That's_ what I'm jealous of, Jack. They knew one of the toughest women I've never met."

The surprise on her face was somewhat comforting to him. It felt like they were a little more balanced, a bit more on par.

"This version is _better_ ," she argued over the desk, leaning onto it and putting her chin into her hand. "You have to trust me on that."

He opened his mouth and shut it hard when interrupted by the light knock against her door, the quick follow up of, “Ma’am? Agent Sloane?”

“We’re fine, Lou.” She leaned forward in the chair, both of them seeming to tense slightly as the Force Protection agent cracked the door open and used his forearm to push it farther as she continued. “Everything okay?”

Gibbs was very suddenly aware of the larger man’s height and build, both impressed and entirely pleased that the Titanesque bastard in front of him was the guy that had to stand between her door and danger. Lou was as advertised, big and brutish and everything he wanted standing watch at the end of her hall. He had to wonder if that had been intentional on Vance’s part or just coincidental.

“We’re all clear out here,” the agent told them gently, nodding down the hall. “The director will brief you in his office.”

Gibbs nodded and shifted his weight, intentionally pulling the other man’s glance his way as he set the safety on her Sig again. “What was it?”

“Unstable Midshipman. He claimed to have explosives on him.”

“Did he?” Jack asked with interest, taking the weapon back and opening her desk drawer at once to put it away.

“He’s been detained,” the other agent explained, nodding back toward Gibbs as they both headed toward him. “Couple of your team members helped take him down, apparently.”

“They all right?” Gibbs asked, motioning her toward the door first.

“No injuries, sir.”

“ _Look_ at you,” she smirked as she said it, the smile brightening the words as she stepped by them both and out the door. “Proud papa.”

“What time are you supposed to lecture this afternoon?” he asked to the back of her, head tipped just enough to enjoy the lean line of her before she stopped walking down the hall and turned back.

“His class starts at four fifteen. You interested?” The grin she gave him was knowing and unapologetically amused. A genial wave went toward Lou as he nodded and moved on down the hall to let other staffers know everything was clear. Jack turned her attention back onto him, doubling the grin once they had a little more privacy. “Sizing up the other side, are you?”

He shrugged as he got closer to her, the palm of his hand cupping under her elbow in a shift that was precisely calculated and worked better than he had imagined it would. She leaned into the touch as he stepped in beside her, the back of her hand rising to brush his chest in so intimate an answer that he swallowed hard before speaking. “I’d just like to hear your story.”

He didn’t need to turn his head to see her smile beside him.

He could feel it.

“And I’d like you to hear it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I know that they likely would have locked the door but I sacrificed realistic protocols for the image of Lou hovering awkwardly in the doorway.


End file.
